


we're trying for something that's already found us

by glittercake



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Steve Rogers, Blushing Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Coffee Shops, Happy Steve Bingo, Human Disaster Bucky Barnes, M/M, Meet-Cute, Public Hand Jobs, Shrunkyclunks, Soulmates, enthusiastic first time, really tight clothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 19:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20605748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittercake/pseuds/glittercake
Summary: Steve straddles his bike, he's about to start it and wallow on the ride home about yet another soulmate-less day, when he hears it."Goddamn, baby boy, take a ride on this."in which you hear your soulmate's thoughts when they see you for the first time.





	we're trying for something that's already found us

Steve is almost a hundred goddamn years old. You'd think, during all that time he'd have heard his soulmate's voice by now. But whoever it is has been dead silent. Which is kind of concerning because what if they're just dead? What if Steve will die alone, what if he has to settle for second best because his soulmate won't speak up or is long-buried?

"Sir?"

The new doe-eyed barista—her name is Becca, and he knows that because she said so and not because he noticed her name tag and her breasts at the same time, for sure not because of that—stares at him, holding his venti-frappu-whatever out for him to take. He doesn't know why he orders it, it's disgustingly sweet, but Natasha says it's the best and the rest of the menu looks too daunting to attempt.

"Thanks. Sorry. Uh. Thanks." _ Real smooth, Rogers. _

Steve pays up and sits down at one of the little tables on the sidewalk. He's lived in New York for ages, has traveled all over this city, taken subway after subway, dined at countless restaurants, surely he must have seen his soulmate somewhere by now?

And yet, nothing. Not one single person Steve has looked at has spun around searching for the guy who thought they had a nice butt, no one has hunted him down in a crowd and breathlessly said: "It's you!"

He's waited for that voice in his head, which Sam says sounds like 'an angel choir but like way better' but that might just be because Sam is totally besotted with Riley's deep, raspy voice.

Steve wants to be besotted, too, goddamnit.

He sips miserably at his coffee, hoping that today is the day Person Right will stroll along and think something sweet at Steve, preferably something other than _ "Oh my god that's Captain America!" _ but he'll take that too. As long as it's the voice in his head that says it. His soulmate's voice.

Steve sits there for another three hours. Sketching buildings, filling his veins with sugary sweet drinks plus some actual coffee, daydreaming of random pedestrians as the love of his life.

It gets pretty sad when Becca—the cute barista girl—eventually sidles up to his table around lunchtime and asks if he's okay.

Clearly, he is just fine. Thanks, Becca.

He gets on his bike and heads back to the tower. There, Sam is busy cooking with Riley, Nat is stretched out like a lazy cat with her feet in Clint's lap, and even Queens and M.J are cuddled up on a chair, all limbs and smiles and things Steve doesn't want to witness right now.

"Hmmph," He says when he plants himself on the counter beside Riley and Sam's cooking pots. It's lasagna in the making.

Sam gives him a side glance, stirring his onions, "I don't speak Grumpy, Cap. What's 'hmmph' mean?"

"When did _ not _ meeting your soulmate start bugging you?" Steve asks because Sam only met Riley in his late twenties while serving. 

Riley hands Steve a stolen mushroom from the pot, "Oh. We were actually talking about this. You know, there are some people who never, _ and I mean like never _, find their—"

Sam snaps into action real quick and covers Riley's mouth with his hand. "Riley! Babe. Sweetheart. What the fuck?"

But like, it's too late. Steve knows what he was going to say.

"It's okay. It's not like that exact thought hasn't been haunting me since I woke up from the ice." He eats the mushroom. "What if I left them behind in the forties while I took the world's longest nap?"

"Well, guess they'd be dead now, or like—"

"Riley! _ Oh my god _. Steve, he… uh she, whoever's it is, is not dead alright?"

Steve slumps forward, he says "Hmmph" again.

"Look, you don't gotta wait for your soulmate to show up. Why don't you date a little, go out, meet a few people? Who knows where that might lead? Soulmates ain't the only way to be happy, you know?" Sam says.

He is very wise. Steve loves him. 

"Getting laid regularly is also a great way not to be entirely miserable all the time," Riley says and winks at Sam. Sam makes a weirdly excited face back at Riley and bites his lip.

Ug. Steve knows what they'll be up to later.

The fact that Steve hasn't had sex in a godawful long time doesn't help anything, really.

Steve blushes himself into oblivion and goes to bed. Still pretty miserable while he jerks off to the image of Becca the barista's boobs, and perhaps also her colleague Marco's ass.

Lord help him.

* * *

Steve goes to his regular coffee joint again the next day. The same routine as all his other off days, except he can't quite look Becca and Marco in the eye today.

Becca notices. Of course, she does, she's a darling, and Steve defiled her in his jerk off fantasy. What a schmuck. "You okay today, Cap?"

The hmmph is on the tip of his tongue, but he's really gotta stop with that, it's rude and makes him seem real dumb. He's sure his soulmate is a smart person and wouldn't even look at a guy who says hmmph.

"Oh. Yeah. No, I'm, uh, just the usual please, Becca."

"One venti, Caramel-Mocha Frappuccino, one pump caramel, one pump vanilla, extra whip, extra espresso. Coming up! Anything to eat?"

"No, thanks. Just the—" and Steve waves his hand around to the delicious garbage coffee sustaining his existence.

Becca writes "Sad Cap" and a frowning face on the cup when he collects it. Pretty accurate, he thinks as he sits down at his usual table.

He's sitting right in a little sunspot, so he forgoes his sweater and lets his skin soak up some much-needed Vitamin D, maybe then he won't feel so mopey. Serotonin and all.

He's wearing a shirt that Nat calls his "fuck-me-shirt" and jeans that Clint calls "get-down-jeans" and he guesses he looks pretty good with the shades on too, so he dares to take a selfie. It actually comes out nice even if it's awkward as hell.

Eventually, he's three coffees in and lunchtime rolls around, but he gets going before Becca comes to sympathize with him again.

Steve straddles his bike, he's about to start it and wallow on the ride home about yet another soulmate-less day, when he hears it.

_ "Goddamn, baby boy, take a ride on this." _

Steve stops, hand on the gas, he did _ not _ hear that wrong. That was definitely the heavenly voice, that was what Sam had been raving about! That was his soulmate!!

He flings his head around, first looking across the street, then at the coffee shop entrance, the row of parked cars, but no one makes eye contact.

Then when he gets off the bike—because he's chasing this fucker down come hell or high water—he sees a man standing at the newspaper vendor with a map in his hands, looking utterly lost.

He's tall, about Steve's height, wearing a scarf, leather jacket, and tight, black skinny jeans. His hair's all curly and shiny, and his cheekbones are so sharp and pretty, and _ oh god, you're gorgeous, you're beautiful, oh my god, hi, oh wow. Hi. _

The pretty man spins around, looks bewildered at the newspaper vendor who reels away from him, then he looks at a homeless man with his wide, absolutely gorgeous, blue eyes. And then he finally looks at Steve and blinks with his mouth open. It's a goddamn sinful mouth too.

Oh my god, Steve thinks, it's him. He heard Steve babbling and fawning over him. And that'd be embarrassing if Steve can bring himself to care. He's that guy's soulmate, and the guy said the baby boy thing and—

"Hey!" Steve calls out and waves. The guy just stares. "Hey uh, I think we… I just heard what you thought—"

"No," the man says and hastily hands the map back to the vendor. "Nope."

"No? What do you mean, no?"

Steve knows it was him because the voice is the same.

"I mean, I did not think that. That was not my thought. Sorry, pal. Gotta go!"

He scrambles off, jumps on a bus that pulls up, and disappears before Steve can even chase him down. Does he even know where that bus is going?

"What the fuck?" says Steve to the empty spot where Soulmate Guy used to be.

"Harsh," says the vendor and takes a drag of his smoke.

Steve, because he is highly annoyed right now and a little deflated, glares at the man, grabs his cigarette and stomps it out. "This shit'll kill you!"

* * *

"It's fucking ridiculous."

"Why? Because he's Captain America?"

Becca doesn't get it. Bucky leans up from where he's flung himself over the couch to scowl at her.

"Because I called him baby boy! Becca! I called Captain America baby boy. Christ."

Becca finishes her tray of mini donuts, and Bucky stuffs one of his own ones in his mouth. Rooming with a barista has its advantages. She brings home pretty amazing treats.

With her mouth full Becca says, "Well," she holds up one shiny, sticky finger, "Firstly, you didn't technically _ say _ that to him." Now she's holding up two fingers, "And secondly, he is totally baby boy."

"Aaarhggg. You're not helping. Gimme," he holds out his hand for the coffee. Venti-Frappu-goodness that he's sure no one else on this earth can stomach.

But then Becca squeals like something bit her.

"Oh my god!" says Becca, and sits up on her knees, "You two even drink the same shit! This is amazing!!"

"Becca!!"

"Bucky!!" 

She is goddamn insufferable. 

"Okay look, you've been wallowing in self-pity since you moved here," Becca makes her voice rough like Bucky's, "Oh no what if my soulmate is still in California, what if I left him behind, _muh muh muh."_

Bucky feels kind of insulted. "With that accent??"

She steals one of his mini donuts, "Listen, you can't hear yourself when you're wallowing, okay? It's really gross."

_ "You're _ gross." 

Becca is anything but gross and takes deep offense to that statement. She gets up and ruffles his hair like he's some fucking five-year-old. "Come by the shop tomorrow, ask baby boy out, and get a damn life. You're so full of it!" 

Maybe he's not full of it. Maybe calling a national icon and war hero baby boy is enough to make anyone want to vanish into the sidewalk cracks. But he's gonna have to suck it up. Bucky's been dreaming of meeting his soulmate for decades.

California turned up nothing, even after searching every beach, every little nook and cranny of the place--libraries, clubs, pet stores, concerts, even a day spa--it turned up exactly zero. So, when Becca phoned one day and suggested perhaps a change was as good as a holiday, and that he should move to New York with her, Bucky didn't even hesitate.

His sister was right as always. He basically moved cities for this guy, fate pushed them together ever so subtly, he heard the voice he'd been dying to hear all his life. The adorably dorky, unsure totally gobsmacked-at meeting-his-soulmate voice.

Who just so happens to be Captain America himself.

Bucky can't let that slip

So, tomorrow, he's going to the damn coffee shop, and he's asking that baby bo—uh… Captain America out on a goddamn date. 

* * *

Natasha comes with Steve to the coffee shop the next day.

He flat out refused to go back and spent the rest of the day in bed because his soulmate rejected him. He was submerged in blankets like a big super serum burrito, and he was totally content to stay there until Natasha sat down on top of him and told him to stop being a 'titty-baby.'

Nat is pro-Steve-getting-laid. Nat also has a mean pinch, and Steve's nipples are really sensitive, so he'll rather do what she says from now on.

Steve meanders up to the counter, miserably greets Becca who is far too chipper for this time of the morning. "Just a thing. You know. The venti Frappuccino thing please." he says. He can feel Natasha's eye roll even though she hasn't looked up from her phone.

"Uh, Cap?" Becca says, her tone makes Steve look up. She still looks way happy, "Someone's already got your drink." And she nods her head to the back of the shop where Soulmate Guy is sitting with two Ventis.

Steve blushes, and his brain makes a whole lot of noise, and his ears kind of block, like when you're driving and the pressure changes, and his palms are really sweaty. He can't greet Soulmate Guy with sweaty palms, he can't look at him when he's all flushed and stuttering—which he will definitely start doing once he opens his mouth. Oh dear god—

"Nat. Nat. _ Natasha. _ Nat." he says, fully aware of how he sounds. 

He doesn't really know what he expected her to do, but she reaches up and pinches his nipple real hard, which snaps him back to himself. 

_ "Titty-baby." _ She hisses, goes to sit at one of the outside tables, and leaves him entirely to his own defenses.

Steve starts walking over and sticks his hands in his pockets, which are ridiculously tight. He kind of knows now why Tony calls them "slut-slacks."

Steve's seriously starting to reconsider his wardrobe. 

Soulmate Guy gets up, "Uhm, hi. I think yesterday…. Well, I kinda freaked out I guess." 

Steve gives a nervous laugh and looks down.

Soulmate Guy does the same, "Not every day you find out Captain America is your soulmate, right?"

The guy looks about as anxious as Steve feels. So, he holds his hand out, and Soulmate Guy smiles like the goddamn sunrise when Steve says, "It's just Steve. Rogers. Steve Rogers." 

"Hi, Steve Rogers. I'm Bucky Barnes."

Steve sits down with Bucky. The whore pants are kind of squeezing his balls.

Bucky's more relaxed now, he's also really pretty, and it makes Steve feel uncomfortably hot down his neck. But he's deliriously happy and finally content. His soulmate isn't dead and buried in the forties or roaming some other corner of the globe without him; he's right here in front of Steve smiling and drinking nasty, sweet coffee.

* * *

Okay look, Bucky was going to take it slow, really he was. He wasn't going to slip his hand down Captain America's pants or kiss his neck or moan into his mouth, nothing like that.

It was only their second date, dinner at a nice place, a walk downtown. That's all. Doesn't matter that Steve flirts like a maniac, drives his bike like one too. Doesn't matter that he's got the cutest goddamn blush Bucky's ever seen, the longest stupidest eyelashes, or that he held Bucky's hand and stroked little circles around his knuckle. Bucky was going to take it slow. Jesus Christ.

But then this big asshole pulled him into a quiet alley with those pretty neon lights shining overhead and kissed him up against a wall.

And well, here they are, getting each other off in an alley like touch hungry weirdos.

Steve says, "Oh Christ. Bucky… Buck… shit." And then he comes all over Bucky's hand and the inside of his jeans.

Bucky kisses him proper hard because that was ridiculously hot. He then says, "Beautiful baby boy." and Steve's dick does an honest to god jump like its ready to go again.

"You close?" Steve says and has the presence of mind to still jerk Bucky off while he comes down from his high. "Cop car's coming."

Bucky's breathing kind of heavy, "Yeah. Fuck baby." Steve's hand feels so goddamn good, so big, so soft. "How can you—_ oh god _—tell about the cops?" Bucky pants, grinding into Steve's fist, his hands all over Steve's tight fucking chest.

"Super hearing. Serum and all. I can hear your heartbeat." Steve says.

Bucky goes "Ngggh." And comes.

And then they duck the hell out of there before those cops lock Steve up for public indecency. Bucky kind of likes this indecency, Steve's a real show-off, real smooth with his mouth once you get to know him. 

Bucky's straddled up behind Steve on his Harley, and honestly, this is some cliche rom-com shit if you ask him. He's pressed tight to this solid wall of fucking muscle, hand resting just so on Steve's belly. He feels the muscles work as Steve drives… fuck his entire life. Wow. 

And this dude smells like fucking heaven. Not like "justice" and "Wonder Woman's boyfriend," as Becca so unceremoniously puts it. He smells real fucking good, Bucky wants to bury his face in Steve and never come up for air. 

He brings Steve back to his place since Becca's working a shift at a bar tonight. 

They're really super polite for people who just jizzed all over one another. Bucky makes them hot chocolate since the drive left them a little chilly. Steve says thank you, Bucky says no problem and sits far enough away that he won't be tempted to jump the good Captain. 

But then Steve's sitting there with chocolate on his upper lip, and this dopey grin on his face and Bucky physically can't help it. He places his hot chocolate down and scoots over, ever so gently wipes the spill from Steve's lip.

But Steve doesn't let him get away with it, he opens his goddamn mouth and sucks Bucky's finger in. Christ.

"Hey, why don't you show me what that serum can do, baby boy?" Bucky says, and Steve goes red all the way down to where his buttons are undone. There's no sense in trying to behave anymore.

In fact, they go so hard, the springs in Bucky's couch give way, not that it puts Steve off in the least. He simply hauls Bucky up as if he's weightless and slams him into a wall and continues his work of driving Bucky over the edge. 

He'd moan about it, but two of Steve's fingers are fucking his mouth because apparently Steve Rogers is _ nasty _, and all Bucky can do is answer with a desperate "Nhgg" when Steve asks him if it feels good. 

Steve kisses Bucky's shoulder, pulls them flush, back to chest, and says, "I've waited so long for you." in this rough, earnest voice.

Bucky clenches around Steve, reaches back to grab Steve's ass and comes without warning. Who knew he's a sucker for some sweet talking?

Steve's flushed and pretty as all hell, still hard even after finishing. He collapses on the carpet with Bucky stretched out beside him, a true and utter spent mess. 

Bucky reaches down and starts jerking him again—for research, for intelligence purposes—and, squeezes, and when Steve comes a second time he traps Bucky's hand between his monstrous thighs and groans so sweet and dirty Bucky almost shoots off again too.

After staying like that in satiated silence for about a minute, relishing Steve's hand absently scratching his scalp, Bucky's getting crampy. He taps the side of Steve's thigh, "Let go you huge fucking lug!"

Steve's just laying there on Bucky's living room floor, sprawled out naked and breathing fast, smiling. God, he's a sight, he's perfect, Bucky thinks, watching his chest rise and fall like that. 

* * *

The next morning Steve's scavenging for breakfast while Bucky's in the shower, he's only got a pair of Bucky's sweats on when he hears someone behind him. 

Naturally, it's his luck that when he turns around he finds Becca the barista gawking at him. 

Steve blinks a couple of times, thinks maybe it's one of those terrifying dreams, where he's half-naked in the coffee shop with a chunk of chocolate muffin in his cheek.

"Uhm, hi," he says.

"Mornin' Cap," Becca says with a huge smile.

Steve's about to call Sam for assisted air evacuation or something when Bucky comes strutting down the hallway in all his beautiful, wet glory. 

And that's all fine until Bucky says, "Morning sis." and kisses Becca on the cheek. Steve then promptly remembers tugging it while thinking of Bucky's fucking _ sister. _Christ. What even is his life.

Bucky, sharp as a whip, instantly recognizes the total look of horror on Steve's face. He starts cracking up, he is actually holding his fucking stomach and turning red.

Becca's looking between the two of them as if they're utter morons, but also like she's a little amused at whatever has her brother cackling.

"Oh. My. God." Bucky says, breathing hard between each word. 

Steve's sighs and waits for it. Sits himself down at one of the counter stools. 

Becca shoves Bucky, "Bucky what, oh my god!?" 

Bucky points to Steve and says, "You have a crush on your barista! Oh my god!!" 

"I do not have--"

Becca takes one look at him and starts cackling too. 

"Holy shit," she says, "This is the best fucking day, like, ever!" and she waltzes out of the apartment to her job where Steve will never in his life be seen again. 

He's staring at the ceiling when he feels Bucky cuddle up under his chin. His hands slide up Steve's sides; they're so warm. Steve's so fucking gone.

"You're adorable, sweetheart," Bucky tells him.

Steve looks at Bucky, he knows he's pouting because Bucky is still giggling. He places a soft little kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth. 

"You're not mad?" 

"Mad? Bucky says and shakes his head, "Now why would I be mad? She looks just like me! I'm goddamn flattered, babydoll!" 


End file.
